


All That You Love Will Be Lost

by Dancingsalome



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3942094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingsalome/pseuds/Dancingsalome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly regenerated and overwhelmed by grief, the Doctor turns to the only friend who can understand what he is going through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That You Love Will Be Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Another one of those fics that twisted and turned and ended up a bit different than I had envisioned. Hopefully it didn’t get lost on the way. Written for and the entry 'Stolen'.

_On the rare occasions he slept he was haunted by a nightmare. It started simple enough, some mundane task that needed to be done, but it started a train of events, snowballing until he had destroyed the world. And there he woke up, panicking and tumbled out of his bed, running through the TARDIS as if he could outrun the terror. Leaning at the console, trying to breathe normally, his hearts thundering in his breast and telling himself it was just a dream. But still not fully awake, the nightmare refused to let go. He stood there and though he knew it was just a dream, he was still convinced that the world was gone and it was entirely his fault. And the pain and shame were so overwhelming that he almost couldn’t stand it, thinking it would be better to die than to live with this unbearable burden. And then, thankfully, the dream started to fade and his mind freed itself from it and he knew it was not for real._

This, however, was not a dream.

He came to screaming on the floor of the TARDIS. His mind full of the image of The Moment and the knowledge that he had made his final decision and pushed the red button. He had slaughtered his world to save everyone else. The pain the memory caused made him black out.

The next time he regained his consciousness he wondered why he was still alive. He remembered that he had wanted to die, to let go, but had regenerated again. Sick and confused he curled up and let his mind fade away once more. He slipped back and forth like that several times and eventually he was able to stand up and give the TARDIS a destination before he fainted again.

When he woke up he could sense that the TARDIS had arrived, she was quiet and gave him a distinct feeling she wanted to be alone. He had been hard on her these past few hundreds of years and the console room showed the neglect. She had earned her rest. On unsteady legs he went out, finding himself in a lush garden, filled with golden evening light. At least he assumed so; his eyes were not quite working yet. He lurched on his feet and then sat down heavily on the ground, burying his head in his hands. The side effects were never quite the same after a regeneration, this time he felt ill, either too hot or too cold and seemingly unable to stop shaking. The grass looked very comfortable and he stretched down on it, though this time he fell asleep rather than to just pass out.

He woke up hearing the sound of voices approaching him. His eyes were still not functioning properly so he could only made out shadowy figures around him and their voices were distorted as well. Then he heard someone speak very clearly.

“Nyssa,” it said. “I need Nyssa.”

The voice, though unknown to him, was his own, saying the first words for this regeneration. He was answered and now his hearing seems to have started to sort itself out because he understood that Nyssa was being fetched. Then he heard light footsteps and someone kneeled at his side.

“I am Nyssa,” a familiar and most welcome voice said. “Do I know you?”

He tried to focus his blurred sight on her. “Yes! No. I don’t know. You used to be my friend.”

She bent down to look at him and he could make out her lovely face searching his. “Doctor?”

“I don’t deserve that name anymore.”

She touched his forehead, and he leaned against the touch. Her hand felt cool and comforting, but she frowned. 

“You are burning; you should not feel this hot. What has happened to you? Is this body new?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need rest.” 

She took his hands and gently pulled him up with her. He stood up, not too steadily and leaned heavily against her slight form. Nyssa didn’t buckle; she had always been stronger than she looked. She directed him toward a nearby house, a short walk that completely exhausted him. He was given a bed and fell asleep almost before he had laid down in it.

An unknown time later he woke up and found he could see properly again and the fever had abated. The bed was comfortable and the room was a simple one, but with large windows; he could glimpse the garden with the TARDIS resting under a large tree. A soft rustling made him turn his head; Nyssa had risen from a chair in a corner and came to sit on the bedside.

She looked the same as ever in his eyes even if her hair was almost white now and fine lines were radiating from the corners of her eyes. But what he saw was the clear intelligence in her gaze and the gentle smile. The endless compassion for every living being and underneath it all, the steel of a will that many never even realised was there. No, Nyssa had not changed.

She touched his face again and this time her hand felt as it should, very warm against his skin and she looked satisfied.

“No fever anymore and you look better. But you still don’t look well. Will you tell me what happened, Doctor?”

He had come here to tell her, but now he found it difficult to find the words. He spoke slowly about the war, the long, long war and the death and destruction it brought. Nyssa listened, and then she asked with some reluctance.

“And, and the Master?”

“He is gone. He was in prison but they let him out to help. I don’t know, I wasn’t there, but perhaps he fought bravely. He had left your father’s body behind by then.”

Nyssa sighed “Then I hope that my father is at peace now.” She looked at him. “But you have more to tell me.”

“Yes. The war is over now. It’s over because everyone is gone. There are no Daleks and no Time Lords anymore. I am the only one of my kind.”

Nyssa took his hand. “The last one. Like me. All that we love robbed from us.”

He didn’t have to say more now. He had come to her because she was the only one who understood, but to not tell her everything would make the comfort of her presence false.

“If that was all. Oh Nyssa, I wish that was all. I wish I wasn’t the thief who stole it!” 

The words came out in a wail, despite his effort to keep his voice level. He stopped, choking, fighting with his feelings. Nyssa watched him with her clear eyes and he felt he couldn’t bear to see how she would look like when she knew it all, so he curled up on his side with his back to her before he spoke again.

“It was all my fault. I fought so hard to save them. I held out for a long, long time, hoping that something would happen, that I would come up with something really clever. But in the end the choice was either to let the Daleks win, or destroy them, taking my people with them. I had to choose, and I chose to kill them all to save the rest of the universe. There was nothing else to do, but still, I can’t stop thinking that if I had only held out a little longer, perhaps just minutes, even seconds, something would have changed to make it all unnecessary. They are all dead, Nyssa, and it was I who murdered them.”

He fell silent, exhausted. After a few moments he could feel the mattress dip and Nyssa curled up behind him, her arm encircling him. He didn’t speak and Nyssa said nothing either, but after a while he became aware that she was singing softly into his back. Lullabies, he thought, such songs one would sing for a small child to ease away night terrors and slowly he relaxed. When the tension eased the tears came, tears he had thought had been scorched away in the last burning chaos. He cried for a long time while Nyssa sang for him and when he couldn’t cry anymore he fell asleep. 

The next time he woke up he did so because the door opened and Nyssa came in with a bundle of fabric in her arms that she dropped on his bed.

“The TARDIS let me in,” Nyssa said, smiling. “I told her I needed clothes for you and she seemed to find these proper. You will find me in the garden when you are dressed.”

The clothes were all black which he found appropriate as evidently the TARDIS also thought. He got dressed and went to find Nyssa, who he found underneath a tree close to the TARDIS. He sat down beside her and they sat in companionable silence until Nyssa spoke.

“My first reaction when Traken was destroyed was not grief. I was too shocked to feel any sorrow or miss what I had lost. But I felt guilt. It didn’t matter that I knew myself to be blameless, the guilt for being the only one left alive followed me, faithful as a dog.”

She shifted so she could look him straight in the eyes. “I’m glad you came to me in a time like this, but I can’t give you what you want.”

“But what do I want? I scarcely know who I am yet. I thought I wanted to die, but here I am.”

“You want forgiveness for what you have done, Doctor, but I can’t give it to you. I put no blame on you, but forgiveness is not mine to give.”

“They are all dead, there is no one left who can forgive me.”

“You are still here.”

“That’s impossible.”

Nyssa stared straight ahead. “Perhaps it is. I can’t say it can be done because I have not reached that point myself. But you live so much longer than I will, Time Lord.”

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree. “If you, who are without fault, can’t forgive yourself, what chance do I have?”

“I don’t know. But I think that some part of you believe you can achieve it, because you are still here, after all. You are not without hope, not yet.”

“I don’t even know where to start, everything hurt so much!”

“You take a step; you can always make yourself believe that you can take one. And then another and another. The only thing you can do is go forward and do your best.”

“As you have?”

“Yes, as I have. I can’t make a big difference, but I have worked all my life to help others. When it hurts too much, when I wish I had stayed on Traken to die with the rest of my people, and then I think that for those I healed, the difference was enormous.”

He couldn’t help laughing, even if it was tinged with bitterness. “I couldn’t stay here and take care of the ill. I would be a lousy doctor.”

Nyssa laughed with him. “I atone my way, you will have yours. There is the whole universe waiting for you out there, go and be the hero you have always been.”

“I can’t save everyone.”

“Neither can I. You just do the best you can.”

He turned his head and looked at her, taking her hand. “Come and travel with me, Nyssa! I would feel better if you could be with me.”

“No. I love you, Doctor, but I can’t travel with you again. What you have lost is too much like my own losses. How long would it take, do you think, before we started to mirror each other's pain? Not so very long, I believe, and then we wouldn’t find any comfort in each other, only renewed misery. I am not the one who can help you heal.”

He wanted to contradict her, telling her that she could never bring him pain, but he knew she was right.

“I just don’t know where to begin.”

She thought for a long time before she answered. “I think you should go to Earth.”

“Earth!”

“Yes. You have saved her so many times, now she may save you. Go there and I think you will find what you need.”

“That sounds like a prophesy.”

“I never had that gift, but it feels like the right thing to do.”

He stayed for a few days longer until his body felt like his again. Nyssa followed him to the TARDIS the day he left. She stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek, just as she had done so many years ago. Though his cheek was new, her lips felt the same, warm and soft. He hesitated and then leaned down to return it, before he stepped into the TARDIS and left.


End file.
